23

"Are you sure you have to leave?" Cynthia's voice quivered as she knelt before Aristellus, her hands trembling as she struggled to hold back the sob rising in her throat. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, and her lip quivered despite the smile she tried to wear. Aristellus, meeting her gaze, simply smiled—small, comforting. He couldn't bring himself to say anything, afraid that even a single word would push her over the edge. Silence spoke volumes where words might fail.

Tears slipped down her cheeks, unbidden, as she pulled her son into a tight embrace, her arms wrapping around his growing frame like she was trying to anchor him to this moment. He felt the warmth of her tears soaking through his shirt, but still, he remained quiet, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder in a silent promise.